Second Chances
by Equif
Summary: AU. Arthur Kirkland dies of a broken heart syndrome and is given a second chance to live. He is also given a choice to find out who is at the other end of his red string, and it just might prove to be quite worthwhile.
1. Broken Dead

Title: Second Chances

Rating: PG-13

Summary: What would you do if get a second chance to live again? Arthur Kirkland dies of a broken heart and gets a second chance. He is also given an opportunity to find out who is at the other end of his string, and this just might be worthwhile. AU. US/UK.

* * *

><p>"The patient's BP is dropping fast! Nurse, syringe!"<em><br>_

_What was happening..? He could hear voices...was he still in the hospital?  
><em>

"Patient, can you hear me? Are you still there?"

_He wanted to answer yes, he was, but his mouth refused to move. Black dots were filling his vision, and the painful twinges in his heart hurt too much for him to think._

"I need you to hold on! Don't give up!"

_Someone was speaking, but he could not hear the spoken words. He was only aware of how his heart, with each beat, was getting more painful and unbearable by the second. Was he dying? He wanted the pain to stop. His head was pounding and at that moment, he wanted everything to stop and leave him peace. Let him go, let him leave-_

**BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP-**

"Patient has gone into a cardiac arrest! Get the defibrillator!"  
><em><br>_

_When was this going to end when was this going to end just let me go it hurts it hurts it hurts so much-_

And suddenly, there was no more.

A loud, continuous beep filled the silence in the operating room. For one moment everyone paused and looked up at each other. Finally, the doctor pressed two fingers down on the base of the patient's neck.

No pulse.

He looked back up again grimly.

"Patient's dead. Name?"

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Time of Death?"

"8:23PM, Sir."

"Cause?"

A pause, followed by the rustling of papers.

"...Broken Heart Syndrome, doctor."

_Arthur Kirkland, aged 27, had died of a broken heart._

* * *

><p>The first thing Arthur was aware of that he was not on the operating table anymore.<p>

Nor was he in the hospital either.

Instead he was seated on the bench, a cup of tea and saucer nestled comfortably in his hands in the middle of a void of white. Arthur could not make any sense of any tangible dimension in this white space. It did not seem that there was any start or an end in sight, nor were there anything else as far as Arthur could see around him; which there was only one logical conclusion left.

He was dead and this was Hell.

Well, he supposed that if this was indeed hell, it was a rather suitable punishment in hindsight. Damnation to an eternity of nothingness-with only a cup of cold tea.

"Hey! Hey!"

Then again, he supposed, the upside that he was dead and thus unable to feel any more _pain. _There was no difference between 'barely existing' or 'dead'. Perhaps it was some sort of a relief for himself that he was-

"HEY! ARTHUR KIRKLAND!"

The shout immediately startled Arthur out of his thoughts. Who was it? Arthur's first thought (amusingly) was that some sort of a demon had decided to appear and was about to torture him, just like in those horror movies.

However, it turned out to be human-at least, a being that seemed to physically look like a human. A young man that looked at least a few years younger than him with fiery red hair and green eyes stood before Arthur. The youth was dressed in a pair of fitting pants and a white vest.

If anything, this person did not seem to be of any threat at all.

"Who are you?" Arthur eyed at him warily. Appearances were deceiving. He did not simply trust this person enough to let his guard down.

The being took a seat beside Arthur. "There's no need to be so wary! I am not going to bite you! My name is Asher and I am your residential Spirit Guide!" Asher stared at Arthur with interest. "You are _really _here right in front of me, are you not?"

...Was he for real? "No, I am not." Arthur deadpanned. "I am just a figment of your imagination just like I am starting to think you are. "

Asher gave a sheepish laugh. "Ah sorry, my apologies! It's just that it has been a really really really long time since I have gotten a Special Case and-"

Arthur held up his hand. "Wait wait slow down. Special Case? And where am I?" His head was starting to hurt from how fast Asher was speaking.

"Well to answer where you are, you are in a place called Transition, but I personally prefer to call it the Place-In-Between!" Asher grinned. "And it is only for the

people who are selected by the Upper Management to be given another chance to live again. Special Cases. And you," he gestured at Arthur. "-are given a second chance."

Arthur rose an eyebrow. This was ridiculous. Logic had told him that yes, he was dead, yes, this was definitely somewhere in Afterlife (possibly Hell)-but being told by Asher (a Spirit Guide) that this was_ not_ Hell but somewhere on the crossroads? And the fact that he was given another chance to _live _again for some unfathomable reason?

"Why me? There's probably somebody else who deserves this chance better." Why would the Above even want him to live when he was meant to be dead and there was nothing worth living back there for?

(Arthur was uncertain that he deserved another chance to live.)

Asher shook his head. "Nope, nor can do. Come on come on!" He stood up and pulled Arthur up onto his feet. "You need to go back. There isn't much time already!"

"Wait-!"

* * *

><p>-and when Arthur opened his eyes again, gasping for breath and taking in huge mouthful of oxygen, filling his starving lungs, he was right back at on the operating table.<p>

"-oh god the patient is alive! Hurry! Check his stats!"

A whirlwind of activity surrounded him. Arthur was quite unsure what exactly had transpired, but by the time he was back on the hospital bed with the doctor telling him for the twentieth time how it was a 'miracle' as he had been technically, dead for approximately six minutes and how he should 'appreciate being given another chance to live', he was starting to feel a rising ire and so slipped into auto pilot mode, where he simply nodded and agreed.

When the doctor finally left his room, Arthur leaned back fully against his bed. Good riddance. So he was dead for six minutes. It did not feel like whatever had happened back in that void was six minutes; it felt more like an hour. As Arthur pondered on the short conversation he had with Asher, he considered the plausibility that everything was a bad dream and that he had dreamed it all up. He dismissed it though, because of how realistic it felt, and because he remembered how, back on that operating table, he had literally felt himself slip and die.

..haa. Which brought him back to the next question: Why was he still alive? Arthur frowned and massaged his forehead with his fingertips lightly. There wasn't any _sense. _If anything back there he was already prepared to accept his fate and that he was going to Hell; for he had done many things that he was sure that it qualified him a place Down Below due to the nature of his job and that he had done _nothing _good to even deserve this, this chance to live again. And what the hell was he supposed to do anyway?

If anything he suspected that this was probably a form of punishment.

"No, it isn't a punishment! And there _is_a reason why you were brought back."

Arthur recognized that voice.

"And what is this reason?" He sat up on his bed and glared at Asher. " Why are you even here?"

Asher crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. "Hey! Enough with that glare! It's _scary._" He made a face at Arthur. "Geeze, how depressive can a human get? I am here to tell you why, so stop with the brooding silence already."

Brooding silence? _Depressive? _Arthur bristled. He certainly was not depressive!

"Then say it!" Arthur snapped. He had enough. "I am rather interested as to why They want to bring a bastard back alive."

Asher sat down on the chair and pointed at Arthur's wrist. "See that on your pinky?" A small, red thread was tied around Arthur's little finger in a ribbon knot. It stopped short at the end of Arthur's palm. "That is what we call a Fate string. Fate strings are what link two people who are meant to be together forever. So at the end of your Fate string will be the person who is supposed to be your other half."

"...so I was brought back to life again just so to find out who is my other _half _when I can't even see where this rest of the string _goes?" _This was a beyond ridiculous justification. Arthur did not even want to know who was this other person. He was pretty sure that whoever was on the other end would not like him one bit for if he knew just what kind of a person Arthur was. "No. That is the stupidest reasoning I have ever heard. And there is no such thing as together forever." Unpleasant memories of that fateful night started to materialize right in mind. Arthur forced himself to shove it back right into the mental closet and locked it. He did not need to be reminded. "I refuse."

(And he didn't want to go through something he now believed to be completely full of so full of sharp points that will cause you to bleed all over again.)

Asher shrugged. "Weeeeelll it's your choice. I'd say not to waste this chance. You can't see the rest of your string until you fulfill some requirements you need to know." A brief pause. "...look. You are not the only person I have seen being brought back again and told exactly why they were revived. Some of them chose not to discover who was at the other end of the line; they didn't exactly lead a very fulfilling life. Some of them chose to embark on the journey to do it; and I can tell you that there is something never quite like it when they do. What have you got to lose?"

Indeed, what had he got to lose?

(Nothing and Everything.)

Arthur closed his eyes and fell right back on to his bed, back facing Asher. He did not have to answer that question. Hopefully Asher would be able to take the sign that it was time for him to leave.

"...fine then. You are tired. You should get some rest. Think about what I said, Arthur." Asher reached out and gave Arthur's shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Good night."

And he was gone.

Arthur Kirkland did not believe in this notion of 'fate strings', as however it was called. He had once let himself entertained and believed that he was able to be in a relationship but apparently that was not the case when it came to 'trust' and 'commitment', and to be frank it seemed bloody amusing in hindsight that over a bastard of a person Arthur had technically, died.

Hah.

No more. He was living now-no going out to find who exactly was at the other end of this invisible string, no more wasting energy dwelling on this matter, no more relationships.

Arthur Kirkland was Arthur Kirkland again.

* * *

><p>By the end of that week, Arthur was deemed fit enough to be discharged from the hospital. The doctor had advised him to take the following few days off 'just in case', but Arthur decided that no, he had enough rest on the bed in the hospital and headed right back to work on the following Monday.<p>

"Well, well, look who _is _back from the dead!"

Arthur placed his briefcase down on the desk. "And good morning to you, Gilbert. Now what do you want?"

"Can't a fellow employee hold a normal conversation with his boss?" Gilbert made himself comfortable on the couch. "For a moment when the I heard you were going through a cardiac arrest, I was really worried you weren't going to make it. So I am extremely glad that you are still alive, 'Captain." He gave Arthur a casual salute.

Arthur snorted. " Your concern is duly noted. Where's Kiku?"

"Still as modest as ever, Boss." Gilbert got up from his seat. "Kiku's back in his office. But you better hurry, I think he's rushing off to meet some important people soon."

Arthur nodded. He only needed a moment.

"Ah, Arthur_-san._I am glad you are back." Those were the words Arthur heard as soon as he stepped right into Kiku's office. "How are you feeling today?"

Kiku Honda was the more experienced one between the two of them when first Arthur had approached the Japanese man to set up a law firm together two years ago. Although they were a small firm, Arthur had took time and effort to build a reputation for the firm over the short span of two years. Now there were five lawyers working under their name and they were working in a comfortably large office space, where the firm was located just right outside of London.

"From recovering from a near death experience and lying on the bed on the doctor's insistence with nothing but a window and tasteless hospital food, yes, I feel quite fine." Arthur picked up a file from the pile on Kiku's desk. "Any new cases?"

"Well." Kiku picked the file out from Arthur's hand and placed it back on the pile. "I have accepted several cases_ pro bono_on the behalf of this firm in celebration of the Annual Pro Bono Week." He retrieved a green file from the bottom of the pile and handed it to Arthur. "I think this case ought to be suitable for you. Take a look."

Arthur glanced through the case file. It seemed rather like a relatively easy case, a youth has been found murdered on the streets a few days ago and a man named Alfred F. Jones has been arrested and currently placed in the detention centre. It also seemed that he was also under suspicion of several other murders that had happened across the town over the span of two months. It also seemed there were decisive evidence found on the crime scene that pointed towards Alfred. The way that Arthur saw this case, the best this guy could get away with was life imprisonment.

"Ah, before I forget." Kiku leaned forward. "This particular client requests an acquittal. You are to defend him in the upcoming trial in this case." Kiku continued as he tidied the rest of the files on the desk. "He is in the detention centre right now. You might want to go down and question him."

Silence.  
><em><br>_

_"...Defend?_" Arthur eyed at him in disbelief. "Kiku, did it _occur_ you that I am a _prosecutor? _Clients come to me because they _want _me to _prosecute, _not _defend_!" There was no way he could take this case. He could never defend somebody in court, especially when the suspect was charged with murder out of all charges! "I am not taking this case." He closed the file and held it out to Kiku. "Give it to someone else."

Kiku simply smiled and pushed the file back into Arthur's hands. "Unfortunately there's only seven lawyers, including me and you, working in this firm. The six of us are busy with other cases, which leaves only you free. So I am afraid that you have to take this case, Arthur-_san_. If you are able to successfully do this pro bono case well, don't you think that it would paint a far more rosy image for this firm?" He eyed at Arthur for a moment. "...and I believe that this client is not guilty. I have personally talked to Alfred and I can tell that if you put him right in front of the jury, even they are going to have a hard time believing that this man has murdered another human being."

"... _fine_." What could he say? Throughout the period that Arthur had been working with Kiku, Kiku was a person that, for every act out of the usual algorithm he did, he did it for some god knows mysterious reason, and as Arthur usually found out, he would not know what exactly was the reason until he did it.

But a case meant work, and work was what Arthur did best in.

Work also provided him the opportunity to not think of anything else, which was the best gratification he could ask for.

* * *

><p>Arthur still had a problem in believing that this Alfred Jones was not guilty. All the evidence and eye witness accounts pointed towards that Alfred had indeed committed murder. He had read the whole case file, but he thought that it would only be fair to hear what Alfred had to say before deciding.<p>

"Mr. Kirkland? Alfred F. Jones is ready for questioning." The guard's voice rang over the speakers. "You have 30 minutes."

The door beeped and Alfred came in. He was dressed in the customary prison bright orange jumpsuit. Arthur noted that he actually looked...rather young. If the case file had not stated his age (23), Arthur would had guessed that Alfred was 19 or even 20.

"Are you my attorney?" Alfred sat down on the chair opposite Arthur and placed his arms on the table. He looked as if he was about to collapse and fall asleep anytime. Arthur supposed rentless interrogation by the police had taken quite a huge toll on this man. "Great, because I didn't do it and you got to _help me_, please."

Arthur was about to open his mouth when he noticed a string dangling from Alfred's left little finger. The string had a little ribbon knot tied right a the bottom of the little finger.

It was also red string.

At that instant, Asher's words came back to him.

_"You are not the only person I have seen being brought back"_

Alfred had died once and he was brought back again.

Alfred F. Jones was given a second chance, just like Arthur was.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you for reading! I hoped that you have enjoyed this chapter. Was a hetalia kink request I picked up a year ago; hopefully anon who requested it will be able to find this.


	2. Doubt & Trust

**Title: Second Chances**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Word Count: 5,810**

**Pairing: USUK**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Doubt &amp; Trust<strong>

Alfred titled his head to the side slightly in puzzlement. It appeared that Arthur was about to say something, but stopped and was currently staring right down at his arms. Which was downright strange-what was going through his attorney's head?

...But yet it can't possibly be that reason, could it? Another sense of plausibility emerged from the recesses of his brain. It seemed highly impossible but it had to be the only explanation. Alfred's eyes immediately moved right down to his little finger. There was a red string tied around it, invisible everyone but him, and people who had been there and back again, like him.

His eyes flickered right up to look at the man sitting in front of him.

"You can see it, can you?"

The question had seemed to startle the man out from staring. He adjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "My apologies, I was..distracted. My name is Arthur Kirkland and I am-" Arthur hesitated for a moment, uncertain by how the next phrase should sound. "-Your defence attorney. Can you tell me where were you on the night of crime?"

"I was at home watching a movie all night. Didn't go out of the apartment at all." Alfred recited mechanically from memory. He had been at regurgitating the same story for the last few hours. "No, there is no one who can vouch for my alibi. Nobody was at home." Arthur had evaded his question, which meant that he definitely could see the string. However, Alfred decided to let this pass for now.

"But the evidence says quite the contrary, Mr. Jones." Arthur slipped a photo across the table. "This is your jacket and your Swiss Army knife, right? They were found dumped in a bin a few lanes away from the crime scene. There were also eye witness accounts that they have seen a male, wearing a hooded jacket of the same colour in the area around the time of murder." Arthur folded his arms together. "And fingerprints on the knife were identified as yours." Pause. He looked up at Alfred. " What do you have to say to these?"

Alfred clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I don't know. I wasn't even there. I lost my jacket together with my Swiss army knife on the same day-"

"-You lost your jacket and your knife on the same day? When?" Arthur interrupted. This could prove to be a lead worth chasing towards. At the same time Arthur could not shake the sense of doubt over what Alfred said. How could anyone lose something like a jacket and a Swiss Army knife? He leaned forward, although he found difficulty in making eye contact with Alfred. It made him uncomfortable that he had to look someone in the eye, especially at this close proximity. "I need you to tell me everything you know."

"I am a volunteer in the local youth community centre. Every weekend I drop by there to help out. Right now there is a counselling and motivational workshop for troubled youths going on at the centre, and I am in charge of it. Anyway, my knife was in my jacket. I hung it right upon the coat rack in the staff room after signing in that afternoon, and when I returned my jacket was missing." Alfred's shoulders shagged. "This was the day before the murder And then the next thing I know, they turn right up in some murder scene-" His throat tightened. "..of John."

"Yes, the case file says here that you know the victim, John Williams. Says here on the file that he has been attending your weekly workshop and has a criminal history of aggression and anger management." Arthur leaned back and folded his arms. " You know the victim, which establishes the basis that you most likely have a motive. The victim has problems with controlling his anger-he might have, oh, I don't know, landed a couple of punches and frequently disrupted your sessions? And you might have been rather angry over this, and therefore you might have, in the fit of rashness, killed him? And the three other murders over the span of two months; all of these boys had criminal records and attended your workshop. Maybe you killed them too-"

Alfred stood up and slammed his hands down on to the table. "Are trying to help me or are you trying to get me to confess to a baseless accusation?" Damn right he was angry. He had came in hoping that finally there was someone out there who at least believed in him, but this...Arthur seemed otherwise. "Somebody killed John and is framing me for all these damn murders I have never committed!"

Ahh goddamnit this was why Arthur didn't want to take this case. He was a prosecutor, and therefore worked with how prosecutor worked-getting people guilty verdicts through evidence and empirical logic; if they confessed, they could plead with the court for a lighter sentence and their defence attorney would But to defend someone required the basis belief that his client was innocent, which was something he was incapable of doing. Arthur gritted his teeth. What was he supposed to say? That he did not trust anyone, including his client and all he believed that whoever was on that stand, the accused was definitely guilty of something? That fundamentally, everyone on earth was? This was useless. There was no point in taking up this case, reputation be damned.

"Arthur."

Arthur was ready to voluntarily step down as Alfred's attorney. "...I will get another lawyer from my firm assigned to your case instead." He started gathering the rest of the papers back into the case file."I am not going to be your presiding attorney for your trial."

Alfred took a deep breath and sat down. "I need you to listen to me." He reached over and caught Arthur's wrist in the midst of keeping the file." Arthur flinched at the touch., his mouth going dry all of a sudden.

"I noticed that you have not been able to meet my eyes." Alfred continued quietly, a hint of curiosity evident. "Why is that?"

Arthur wanted to say something, but it But to Arthur he had never once made proper eye contact even when in court; and when he did it was with people that he considered that he could trust, like Kiku. Gilbert Partly because he was afraid to see what was reflected right in Alfred's eyes? Emotions that were intangible, unfamiliar and complicated every single equation that he had analyzed and dealt with accordingly so painstakingly? "...let me go." He could have easily broken away from the grip, but it was as if his body had froze up from that mere touch and he was unable to move, and if he did it was as if that something would simply break.

Alfred did not. He simply resumed speaking in the same quiet, calm tone. "I did not kill anyone. John, Caleb, Gabriel and Will. I cared for each and every one of them. Whoever killed these four people knew them personally. But it isn't me." He paused for a moment and withdrew his hand. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't believe me."

Somehow, Arthur forced himself to lift his head up and met Alfred's eyes for that three seconds, and instantly regretted it. Alfred's own brilliant blues were intense and in spite of how he felt, Arthur could not tear away from those eyes even if he wanted to. Everything behind those eyes spoke of care and grief over the deaths, and beyond that, Arthur came to conclusion, in that moment, that Alfred was telling the truth.

"...I will do my own investigations to ascertain these facts." Arthur quickly averted his own eyes back down, hastily shoving the papers and photos back in the briefcase. He did not want to analyze what exactly had happened, not now. He had to concentrate on this case. For very well he could know that Alfred was a bloody damn good actor and he was great at convincing And there was that odd feeling that he had felt during the three seconds he managed to make eye contact with Alfred; and that he was determined to find out exactly that was. "I will drop by again." He stood up and made his way towards the door. Each step closer towards the exit made him felt a little better that he was leaving this somewhat awkward situation.

"Arthur?"

Arthur stopped, his hand already on the doorknob. "...What now?" Arthur wanted to get out of here.

Alfred remained silent for a moment. He had spotted the unmistakable red thread tied around Arthur's finger during their exchange. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he understood that there were some things he had to wait.

"I trust you." 

* * *

><p>Rule Number One: Do not get emotional with your client.<p>

Somehow Arthur had a feeling that he had broken it Arthur decided that by the time this case was over, he was heading to the nearest pub to have a much needed drink. Was this how defence attorneys felt when they were told that their clients would trust them? Or was it just that kid? Arthur had a system when it came with dealing people; separating them mentally into different categories and dealt with them as accordingly. However Alfred did not fit in any existing category he had for his mind; it was as if..as if he was another new species of human that Arthur had just stumbled upon.

Arthur shook his head slightly. No, he had to concentrate. Concentrate on the problem before him first. Just then his mobile chimed, indicating a message.

From: Gilbert

Found smth a note stuck on firm's dr. Might be relatd to ur case! Drop by asap.

Chatspeak- Another thing that Arthur will never understand the appeal of it. In his opinion, that was one of the reasons why the quality of spoken English was getting more and more atrocious. Arthur hailed a cab and instructed the driver to drop by the firm first-he was interested in seeing that note.

If Alfred was not guilty-at least he himself was convinced that he was not-then he had to follow the lead that Alfred gave. Someone other than him that knew the four victims; something or someone who knew these four people. Assuming that Alfred was telling the truth that the jacket and the knife had disappeared the day before the murder in the community centre and that there was someone else other than Alfred that knew these four people personally, the most likely conclusion was that the real culprit had been to the community centre enough to know about Alfred, and had a form a relationship with these four victims. The suspect he had to look for was someone who had something against Alfred. Something big enough to frame him for murder.

The doors to his firm slid opened as Arthur stepped in, mind alive with activity and planning, what he should do once he reached the community center, who he should be contacting and the necessary people he needed to find and talk to. As much as Arthur preferred that he could send someone in his place for him to collect information, no one was free enough to run such an 'errand', and so unfortunately, he had no choice but to do it. If anything, he preferred working right in front of the computer to talking to people.

"Hey, Boss!" Gilbert came over, waving a letter overhead. "Here's the note." He held the piece of paper out to Arthur. "Think it was some kid who left it. Was coming back from lunch and saw him sticking this note on the door."

Arthur took the note from Gilbert and examined it. Hmm. The words were rather untidily scrawled, implying that it was written in quite a hurry. On it, the note simply said:

_Alfred is not guilty. Help him!_

"Did you get a good look of our anonymous sender?" Arthur slipped the note back into his pocket. This could come in useful later.

"Nope. Kid was wearing a hoodie and kept his head down when he ran past me. I could check the security cameras in this building, see if they caught a clear face of him."

"-Do that. See if you can get more information on this person. Once you do, call me." Another lead. Someone out there knew Alfred was not guilty. And if they knew that then the other person must know who the real killer was.

Gilbert grinned. "Gotcha. Another good excuse for me to get out of the office. I've been sitting right on my ass for seven hours straight and it's starting to get a little painful."

"I am glad that you were hard at work for the last seven hours, then." Arthur rolled his eyes. He turned and headed back down to where the cab was waiting.

Youth Centre, huh?

* * *

><p>"Alfred's lawyer?" The lady said right after she glanced at the card Arthur had given. "Well. Anything to help. Even though I have spoken to Name's Amy. I run this youth center What do you want to know?"<p>

Arthur cleared his throat. "Can you tell me more about these weekly workshops that Alfred is in charge of?"

Amy tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Let's see..well, it was more like something that Alfred and I discussed about, really. He thought of doing  
>something that would engage on the street kids, and encourage them in reconsidering their life they were leading right now, and I thought that it'd be a good idea, and so we collaborated and wrote a proposal to the local city council. The approved the project right about a year ago. Initially there were some trouble in finding the youths we wanted to participate since they weren't too trusting and all, but eventually Alfred got a small class size about 10. One year later, now we have a size of 20 per session, twice a week during the weekend afternoons. There were some successful cases where a couple of youths trying to contribute back to the society, like clean up vandalism and helping out with any events we hold in this centre for the public." She paused to pick up a leaflet from the counter and gave it to Arthur. "You can take a look if you want to know more. Anyway, Alfred was bloody excited for the last few months. Wouldn't shut up about 'how awesome things were going to be!', I remembered. "She chuckled, a fond look appeared on her face when she recalled that particular memory of Alfred.<p>

"-Apparently there were four kids that wanted to come up with a play performance for the weekly Performance Night we have here; they said they'd recruit a couple of friends to help out." At that, Amy's face grew solemn, her eyes drooping slightly. "...but one by one they stopped coming. We never did find out what happened to them until we read the papers. And now John's dead, Alfred's arrested." She sighed. "The world ain't making sense anymore."

If the world had made any ounce of sense, Arthur was sure that he would not be standing here questioning. He would already be back at his office preparing to plead guilty and appeal for a lighter sentence for Alfred by now. Arthur stood silent for a moment as he processed the new information. "Did any participant in those sessions were, er, particularly close to the four people?"

"Well-" Amy turned her head and gestured right at the exit. A trio of boys were right outside, laughing and smoking. "Those three. I often see the seven of them hanging together. Maybe they know something."

Arthur quickly thanked Amy. Delinquents, huh? They were much more challenging to talk to than normal people. If Alfred was truly innocent then it would only be right to pursue this till the very end. He headed over to where the trio were standing and stopped a few steps right in front of them.

"Oi. Someone's here." The boy with a piercing on his nose noticed Arthur and nudged the other two of his friends by his side. All of them gave Arthur a full body glance. They were sizing him up. "What do you want?" The other boy holding a cigarette stick finally piped up, eyeing at Arthur with disinterest.

Arthur reminded himself to remain civil. There was no reason to be rude to these people. "I'm a lawyer. For Alfred F. Jones." He looked at boys. "Know him?"

"Yeah, we do. So?" Nose Pierce rose an eyebrow, perhaps answering a little too quickly. "We ain't saying anything."

"He's being held in the detention centre. For the murder of John Williams. He's also accused of the three other murders that happened over the past two months. The nanmes of the three victims were Caleb, Gabriel and Will. Know any of them?" Arthur casually observed their faces for their reactions. All of them showed barely no expressions, except the two beside Nose Pierce jaws tightened for the fraction of a second and immediately shifted their eyes down to the side. Only Nose Pierce remained completely relaxed, staring at Arthur and smirking.

"Yeah. They used to hang out with us. Until they got themselves killed." Nose Pierce continued. "They were fools."

"Shut up, you idiot." Smoke Boy hissed and kicked him in the foot. Nose Pierce glared and flipped his friend a middle finger. "What the fuck did you do that for?"

"Oi, that man's still here. He's looking at us!" The Quiet One gestured at Arthur. "At least answer his questions so he wouldn't bother us!"

"Why should I?" Nose Pierce crossed his arms together. "I got nothin' to hide."

Arthur twitched. Obviously these boys did not seem to care that an authority figure was in their presence. They weren't one bit intimidated at all, and Arthur had a hunch that all of them were hiding something, but obviously they were not going to reveal anything. Not unless Arthur could talk to just one person. Alone.

"..alright." Arthur turned to Smoke Boy. He would question this one. "Mind if I ask you a couple of questions? Inside?"

The three of them exchanged looks, as if deciding on whether Arthur request was valid. Smoke boy turned back to Arthur and stubbed out the lit cigarette under his Doc Martens. He gave a shrug. "Fine."

"See you later, then. Same time same place." Nose Pierce gave Smoke Boy's shoulder a firm squeeze. "Don't forget."

The youth nodded his head and once the duo had disappeared round the corner, he followed Arthur silently back into the community centre, and into the lounge room. Arthur locked the door behind him once both of them were in.

"What's your name?"

"...Adrian." He took a seat down on the couch.

Arthur sat down. "I noticed that when I mentioned your...friends' names, you averted your eyes immediately. That's a sign of shame. And guilt. You know something, don't you?"

"..." Adrian looked at Arthur coolly, remaining perfectly still-or as still as he could because Arthur was scrutinizing him, and Arthur noticed Adrian's Adam's apple bobbed up and down again. Another indicator that he definitely knew something.

"And so you do. Did you still the jacket and knife the day before John was killed?" Arthur decided that he could go further. This kid wasn't going to simply crack. "Did you murder the rest of your friends too?"

Adrian eyed at Arthur for a second, and then immediately stood up. "No comment." He headed right towards the door. Arthur stepped right in front of the boy and slammed him right up against the door, growling. "You are not going anywhere until I get an answer from you. "

Adrian smirked. "Then look me in the eye. If not, I am not going to tell you anything."

"..." Really? After Alfred Arthur couldn't bring himself to do that again. He took a deep breath and instead, kept his eyes fixated at the spot right beside Adrian's head. Arthur hoped that the bluff would work. "...I am looking."

Adrian snorted. "You aren't. Liar. Can't even bear to look at scum like us, can you?"

Arthur gritted his teeth together. It was not that. Not that at all. "No. It isn't that."

"Oh come on it is. Don't kid yourself! Everyone here looks at us like that, 'oh, don't go near them! They are all nuisance! Street trash! Those rascals would never succeed!' I know that type of person when I see one." Adrian sneered. "-and you are one of those poor bastards, aren't you? Those who always think they are right and forever will be?" His hands came up to grip on Arthur's wrists tightly. "Well, go on then. Arrest me. I confess. I confess that I stole the jacket and the knife when nobody was looking. I confess that I killed all my mates. I confess that I used the jacket and the knife to frame Alfred, the only person who so naively and wholly trusted and believed in us, poor, silly naive sod-"

At this, Arthur immediately let go of Adrian's collar and socked him in the cheek, breathing heavily as he stepped back. "Don't insult my client." Now why did he say that? He took out his mobile and punched in some numbers.

"..Hi. Police?" Arthur glanced down at the injured boy, still cradling his cheek. Adrian looked up at Arthur. Arthur immediately looked away. "Alfred F. Jones is not the killer. The real culprit confessed." He did not want to know how exactly Adrian felt.

There were too much going on in those eyes for him to handle.

* * *

><p>"What? Adrian?" Alfred exclaimed in disbelief. "Seriously?" He slowly sat down, shaking his head. "I don't believe this."<p>

Finally, the case was going to end. And Alfred was going to be off the hook. "The police have taken down his statement. It seemed that the security camera at the community centre, while it didn't catch Adrian taking your jacket, it did catch Adrian hiding something underneath his clothes when he exited the centre. Once the formal forms are processed, you are free to go. By this evening you'd be out of this detention centre." Arthur really wanted this case to end. After this he was going to head to the bar with Gilbert and drink. He didn't want to see or even meet Alfred anymore, if that was the case.

"No. I am not going." Alfred leaned back against the chair. "Adrian is not the one. I am sure of it."

...What?

Arthur had to pause for three seconds to process what exactly Alfred said. "What?"

"I am not going anywhere. I am staying. I am confessing that I am the murderer."

For once in his life, Arthur was completely speechless. On the same day Alfred had told him that he wanted an acquittal, that he was innocent, and now he was confessing? What the hell?

"Are you insane? That kid's confession and that video feed is already as good as decisive evidence. Enough to clear your name. Don't be ridiculous-"

"I am not being ridiculous! I trusted you, Arthur!"

"And I fulfilled it, you bloody idiot! The real killer has been already identified!"

"I trusted you to make the right decision, not to blindly point a finger and select someone that's innocent of murder!" Alfred leaned forward and banged a fist down on the table.

Something inside Arthur snapped. "And I fucking did. What the fuck is wrong with you? The evidence-"

"-shut up about that! Everything's all about evidence and logic to you!" Alfred snarled. "Have you tried_ feeling _for once? Doesn't this seem strange to you? How fast Adrian jumped to confess? He's protecting somebody else and I know that!"

"Adrian is guilty as far as I know and he confessed right in front of me! Don't be delusional!" This was unbelievable. Completely unbelievable. Alfred was doing this just because his stupid belief in some kid that he was innocent? "Why can't you just accept that fact and deal with it?"

"No, why can't you open your eyes and look at the truth?" Alfred was half yelling by now. He was completely infuriated, nostrils flaring. "Don't you understand? You are supposed to bring the right people to justice, not people you think that deserve punishment! You are a goddamn lawyer, so do your job properly!"

Oh. Oh. So that was it. After everything Arthur had done for Alfred, even meeting him in the eye and going as to believe, for that very very tiny instance, that Alfred was indeed not an idiot and he was innocent. And instead of gratitude, he had gotten anger. Fine then. If that idiot wanted to remain in here and take the rap he couldn't care less. Arthur stood up. "I don't need you, of all people to tell me how to do my job." He started walking towards the door. "If you want to stay here, it's fine with me. I don't care. My job is done here."

The door slammed right behind his back. Arthur did not bother to even look at Alfred's face as he stormed away.

Somehow, Alfred's last words had lodged right into his brain and it would not go away.

_It just wouldn't go away.  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Arthur-san, I will be going now." Kiku stood by the doorway of Arthur's office. "It is getting late. You should leave the office too. Do you want me to wait for you?"<p>

"Ahh?" Arthur blinked. Oh. "Ah, no. It's fine. You can go first. It's late." He waved his hand dismissively. "I...I'll go as soon as I finish this report." To tell the truth the report wasn't urgent at all. He just needed something to do to avoid any thinking.

Kiku surveyed Arthur for a moment, wondering if he should say something. But instead he seemed to have decided that it was probably for the best to leave Arthur alone, and so he gave a nod. "I understand. Don't go back too late, then. Good night."

"A-Ah. Goodnight."

As soon as the glass door closed behind Kiku, Arthur stopped and slumped back against his office chair. Fuck this. He couldn't even work properly, not with Alfred's words still on his mind.

'You are supposed to bring the right people to justice, not people you think deserve to be punished!'

That was right. Arthur found that he could not argue. He was the prosecutor because he wanted to bring the guilty people to justice, and in his opinion he had believed that everyone was guilty and therefore deserved some form of punishment one way or another; and Alfred's words...he was right, Arthur realized, with some bitterness, that in a way that he was bringing justice to people the thought they were supposed to be punished. Like Adrian. And who knows, probably a few countless others in all the previous cases that he had taken. How many of those people were innocently locked away?

And Arthur realized that he did not want to know. And he did not want to admit to Alfred that he was right either. He was too prideful to do it. Admitting it meant that he was wrong. And Arthur had always been right in the end, eventually.

"-Oi. You Arthur Kirkland? Mr. Kirkland?"

...why can't people be polite for once, like Kiku? Arthur, however, recognized that voice. He looked up and saw the same youth he had seen in that afternoon. The Quiet One. Arthur frowned slightly. Kiku must have let him in.

"...Yes? What do you want? Please don't tell me you want to be an idiot like that wanker and confess that you are the murderer instead." Arthur said flatly.

The youth shook his head. "I was the one who stuck the note on your firm's door. And I want to confess something. I know who's really killed them all, and he's going to kill me too once he discovers I am talking to you."

"Kid-"

"David. My name is David."

"David, look." Arthur was tired. He didn't want to deal with this anymore. "Whatever you are going to tell me right now-"

"-Ben. Ben's the killer. He threatened Adrian to steal the jacket and that knife from the room. He was the one who killed my mates." David swallowed, his hand forming into a tight fist at his side. "He killed them all and he framed Alfred. And now he's going to kill me too."

...well Arthur wasn't quite expecting that. "Ben? Is it the person that commented that all four of your friends were fools?"

David nodded his head.

"...why would he want to kill your friends and frame Alfred? And why are you telling me this now?" Arthur himself was getting more and more puzzled by the second. David obviously had the chance to not tell on his mate and could have kept it a secret. Why would he come clean now?

"...look, we...you have to understand. Us people, we come from different backgrounds. Broken families, parents that never gave a damn, people that outright refused to accept us for various reasons, dropouts...you name it ,we all got it. All of us just..want one thing." David fidgeted slightly. "We just want somewhere we can belong to, see. With people who wouldn't judge us for who we are; people like us." Pause. "And once we get together, there's no turning back. We become close, like brothers. Whoever's in trouble, we help him. In return we ask for nothing but equal loyalty. Caleb, Will, John, Gabriel, me, Adam and Ben..the seven of us. We were close. Like brothers. Nothing could separate us. When Alfred came in and the four of them-"

He inhaled deeply before continuing. "-And the four of them started to drift from the group, see. Ben was pissed. He saw it as a form of betrayal, that they had left the group. Left us. Nobody leaves the group if Ben's in there. So he started killing them, one by one. Said that they don't deserve to live anymore because they betrayed us. And when he got to know that Alfred was the one who was 'changed' them, he came up with the plan to frame Alfred with John's murder. Set things right, he said. Revenge, he said." David voice broke at that. He lifted his head up and looked right at Arthur. "I..don't think it's fair for Adrian. To take the rap for somethin' he didn't do. And it's bloody murder. I just want to do the right thing. If you are wrong , you are wrong. You should take responsibility."

Finally, the truth. It was completely ridiculous how far humans could go when it came to betrayal. Arthur found it amusing in the twisted sense he could somehow understand Ben's reaction, although exaggerated. He had been betrayed not too long ago, too. And had, technically, died as a result of it.

"...how am I supposed to believe you?" Arthur exhaled heavily. He did hope that this lad was telling the truth, but he was unable to simply believe spoken words. Not after what Alfred had said. "You might be lying."

"You wouldn't know that, would you?" David replied. He took a step closer and leaned over the desk. "If you don't believe me, the next morning you are going to see a dead body right down at the alley behind your office and Ben walks free. If you do, you get a chance to deliver justice to the right person." He gave a grin. "Doesn't take much to figure out which option to pick, does it?"

Indeed, it didn't. Arthur found himself, slowly, moving his eyes to meet David's own subconsciously. There were still that many complex emotions flitting around, most which Arthur was unable to decode, but he was able to identify, intuitively, that David was telling the truth and the fear that if Arthur did not believe him, he was going to end up dead.

' You are a goddamn lawyer, so do your job properly!'

Was this for the best? Without breaking eye contact, Arthur reached for his phone and pressed a single button thrice.

_Nine...Nine...Nine._

* * *

><p>AN: Annnd it's the end of chapter 2! I..am glad that this is the end of Arthur's POV for now because I really really had a hard time attempting to keep him IC to the best of my abilities. I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter! Regarding how exactly did Alfred die, everything will be revealed in due time 8')


End file.
